The brouhaha between the tech bros led by Elon Musk and Donald Trump’s nativist supporters over whether to restrict skilled immigrants reflects a deep underlying tension between the politics and economics of migration.&nbsp;
Today’s rich economies owe much of their success to migrants who, by choice or through coercion, laboured on their plantations, factories, mines, and homes. Even now, these countries continue to rely on low- and high-skilled migrant workers to fuel economic growth and dynamism by taking on jobs that native-born workers are unwilling or unable to fill.
Far from displacing local workers, migration tends to boost employment among native-born citizens. Studies have consistently shown that countries with significant foreign-born populations experience faster and more sustained GDP growth. In the US, migrants paid an estimated <a href="https://map.americanimmigrationcouncil.org/locations/national/" target="_blank">$579 billion</a> in federal, state, and local taxes in 2022.
Research also shows that migration does not negatively affect local workers’ wages. Since lower-skilled migrants often take undesirable jobs, such as those involving long night shifts, zero-hours contract work, and heavy labour, their main competitors are usually other migrants.
None of this seems to matter to Trump, whose <a href="https://www.bloomberg.com/features/2024-trump-interview/" target="_blank">unsubstantiated claims</a> include the charge that immigrants are taking “Black jobs.” Rather than competing with native-born Americans, migrants have contributed significantly to US job creation.&nbsp;
Many countries depend so heavily on migrants that their economies would collapse without them. This is especially true in some Gulf countries. Migrants make up roughly <a href="https://comparativemigrationstudies.springeropen.com/articles/10.1186/s40878-024-00390-3" target="_blank">90%</a> of the labor force in the UAE and Qatar.&nbsp;
Elsewhere, foreign workers often fill critical labour gaps, doing jobs that require specialised skills, such as programming, plumbing, or surgery, while lower-skilled migrants handle vital tasks that locals are unwilling to perform like fruit picking and elder care.
Thriving economies naturally attract more migrants, who, in turn, boost productivity and fuel economic growth. This virtuous cycle explains why cities with the highest migrant concentrations are among the world’s most vibrant and prosperous.
Anti-immigration politicians often portray migrants as a burden on public budgets. In fact, foreign workers tend to contribute more in taxes than they receive in benefits. Even undocumented migrant workers make significant contributions to government finances.
Refugees, unlike economic migrants, can sometimes become a burden on social systems. But this is largely due to restrictive immigration policies in countries like the UK, where asylum seekers are prohibited from working and forced to rely on public services.
Increased migration also offers clear demographic advantages. Most advanced economies, as well as many developing countries, including China, now have birth rates below replacement levels, which, combined with rising life expectancy, have led to rapid population aging.&nbsp;
By 2050, the number of people aged 60 and older worldwide is <a href="https://www.oxfordmartin.ox.ac.uk/publications/migration-and-the-economy-economic-realities-social-impacts-and-political-choices" target="_blank">expected to double</a> to more than two billion. Workers will be required to pay the taxes that sustain social systems and perform the growing range of jobs that cannot be automated or done remotely, like elder care, personal services, and hospitality.
But there appears to be little correlation between demographic realities and public attitudes. Countries with the world’s lowest fertility rates – such as Poland, Hungary, Japan, and South Korea – are among those most opposed to migration.&nbsp;
Nevertheless, public attitudes toward migration can and do change as people grow more accustomed to foreigners in their midst and begin to recognize the necessity of migrant labour.
Migration provides two key ingredients of a dynamic economy: a growing pool of highly educated workers and a diverse workforce that fosters innovation and entrepreneurship.&nbsp;
To be sure, not all migrants are exceptional or even law-abiding. Even so, criminality rates among migrants are typically lower than those of native-born citizens.
But if migration offers such clear benefits, why do so many people and politicians oppose it? The disconnect between economic reality and political discourse is reflected in surveys showing that people <a href="https://ourworldindata.org/data-insights/many-people-overestimate-the-percentage-of-immigrants-in-their-country" target="_blank">tend to overestimate</a> the size of their countries’ <a href="https://www.citigroup.com/global/insights/migration-and-the-economy" target="_blank">migrant populations</a> and in the anti-immigrant rhetoric of parties across the political spectrum.&nbsp;
Politicians, often assisted by audience-hungry media, have learned that sensationalised images of foreigners ‘flooding’ or ‘swamping’ their countries attract those who confront job insecurity, limited access to public services, or unaffordable housing. Even immigrants and their descendants are not immune to the influence of such messaging.
Walls and fences have long been a favored tool of anti-immigration politicians. But while they serve as powerful symbols of sovereignty, physical barriers are often counterproductive. Instead of deterring migration, they tend to trap as many people within a country’s borders as they keep out.
There are currently more than <a href="https://www.americanimmigrationcouncil.org/research/mass-deportation" target="_blank">13 million undocumented workers</a> in the US, many of whom have been in the country for decades. Deporting them en masse would undermine the economy, harming US-born workers in the process.&nbsp;
Industries like construction, <a href="https://cmsny.org/agricultural-workers-rosenbloom-083022/" target="_blank">agriculture</a>, and <a href="https://www.latimes.com/food/story/2020-05-26/meatpacking-industry-immigrant-undocumented-workers" target="_blank">meat processing</a>, where undocumented workers account for a significant share of the labour force, would be hit particularly hard. The result would be sharp increases in housing and food prices, as well as the costs of elder and infant care, hospitality, and other services.
Implementing a mass deportation program would face <a href="https://ohss.dhs.gov/sites/default/files/2024-06/2024_0418_ohss_estimates-of-the-unauthorized-immigrant-population-residing-in-the-united-states-january-2018%25E2%2580%2593january-2022.pdf" target="_blank">enormous</a> legal, logistical, and economic obstacles that would likely take years to overcome.
Much of the migration debate is focused on the impact of migrants on the countries that receive them, but, as the example of remittances suggests, the effects on the countries they leave are equally important – and not necessarily positive.&nbsp;
While India, China, and the Philippines <a href="https://www.statista.com/chart/4015/the-top-countries-for-highly-educated-migrants/" target="_blank">produce</a> the largest number of educated migrants, regions like Sub-Saharan Africa, the Caribbean, and Central America lose a far higher proportion of their university graduates.&nbsp;
As migrants gain skills and income, they often channel these resources back to their home countries, bringing both expertise and investments that foster economic development.&nbsp;
In many developing economies, remittances sent by migrants abroad exceed aid and investment combined. In <a href="https://www.investmentmonitor.ai/features/lebanon-remittance-dependent-country-world/" target="_blank">Lebanon</a>, they account for 28% of GDP, and between 32% and 48% of GDP in <a href="https://knomad-ois.assyst.in/publication/migration-and-development-brief-39" target="_blank">Tajikistan, Tonga, and Samoa</a>. (In Nepal it is 24% of the GDP.)&nbsp;
These funds have a transformative impact, supporting investments in education, health, housing, and productive assets such as seeds, tractors, and sewing machines. Consequently, communities with high migration rates are often better off economically than they would be otherwise.
While studies show that migrants tend to achieve at least some of their aspirations, many face abuse and danger even after they reach their destinations, enduring social and economic exclusion, xenophobia, loneliness, and violence.
Moreover, migrants often take on dangerous jobs that local workers avoid. Migrant women, in particular, are frequently employed as cleaners, cooks, and caregivers – isolated and insecure jobs often lacking basic protections.
The idea of open borders may seem politically suicidal nowadays, but they were largely the norm until the twentieth century. The EU’s Schengen area, which allows free movement across member states, demonstrates how such systems can work effectively.
The anti-immigration sentiment sweeping the US and many other countries contrasts with the growing recognition among economists that cross-border migration, when managed properly, can benefit host and source countries alike.&nbsp;
So far, the economists have been ignored. Increasingly restrictive policies targeting migrants from developing economies have jeopardised an essential lifeline for those seeking to escape poverty, conflict, and destitution while damaging the economies that shut the door on them.
Crafting a more humane and open immigration system, one that maximises opportunities while mitigating costs, &nbsp;remains one of the biggest challenges facing policymakers.
First, voters and political leaders must acknowledge that migration is, and always has been, a fact of life. Its history is one of profound loss and sorrow, but also of new opportunities and extraordinary progress. © Project Syndicate
<a href="https://iangoldin.org/" target="_blank">Ian Goldin</a> is Professor of Globalization and Development at the University of Oxford and the author of The Shortest History of Migration (<a href="http://oldstreetpublishing.co.uk/100/the-shortest-history-of-migration" target="_blank">Old Street Publishing</a>, 2024, <a href="https://theexperimentpublishing.com/catalogs/winter-2025/the-shortest-history-of-migration/" target="_blank">The Experiment</a>, 2025).

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The truth about migration

Nepal is set to lift its ban on domestic workers migrating to West Asia, starting with a pilot agreement with <a href="https://kathmandupost.com/money/2023/06/14/uae-requests-nepal-to-resume-sending-domestic-helpers" target="_blank">the United Arab Emirates (UAE)</a>. This decision marks a major victory for <a href="https://apwld.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/AMKAS-NEPAL-final.pdf" target="_blank">advocacy groups</a>, <a href="https://www.fairrecruitmenthub.org/sites/default/files/2023-10/wcms_451050.pdf" target="_blank">human rights organisations</a>, <a href="https://www.ilo.org/publications/no-easy-exit-%E2%80%93-migration-bans-affecting-women-nepal" target="_blank">the ILO</a>, <a href="https://www.worecnepal.org/content/340/2022-05-18" target="_blank">activists</a>, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/safer-migration-for-women" target="_blank">media</a>, and <a href="https://www.degruyter.com/document/doi/10.1515/til-2022-0017/html?lang=en&amp;srsltid=AfmBOoowfsJ6whGxR5B4vGFYhAbIaJgRdqoSFsvgciRPPrmNHncBAzFx" target="_blank">scholars</a> who have campaigned against the restriction, saying <a href="https://www.brunel.ac.uk/about/brunel-public-policy/news-and-events/news/Policy-briefs/Societal-challenges/Policy-Brief-Reducing-Vulnerability-to-Exploitation-of-Nepali-Migrant-Domestic-Workers-%E2%80%93-Dr-Ayushman-Bhagat" target="_blank">it increases the vulnerability of workers to exploitation</a>.
This legally binding agreement with a country that employs hundreds of thousands of Nepali domestic workers should be a cause for celebration, but lifting the migration ban on a pilot basis raises pressing questions.&nbsp;
How will the government select the 5,000 domestic workers? How will it reach prospective workers? And what provisions will be made for those migrating to the UAE without permits?
We also need to look at how the government plans to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-plans-to-reintegrate-returning-workers">reintegrate returnee workers</a>, and engage rights organisations, activists, and scholars in the consultation and negotiation process, and recognise unrecognised Nepali migrant domestic workers already in the UAE.
The lack of information on Nepali domestic workers abroad stems from long-standing migration bans imposed by the government as a protectionist policy. For years, <a href="https://comparativemigrationstudies.springeropen.com/articles/10.1186/s40878-021-00250-4" target="_blank">Nepal has imposed various degrees and forms of bans on domestic workers' mobility</a>, mainly affecting women, culminating in <a href="https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4175277" target="_blank">a blanket ban since 2017</a>. This was eased in 2020 with the <a href="https://www.ilo.org/publications/comprehensive-analysis-policies-and-frameworks-governing-foreign-employment" target="_blank">introduction of seven preconditions</a>, but it only reinforced barriers instead of offering a solution.
Despite the restrictions, <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S0962629822000129" target="_blank">Nepalis continued migrating for domestic work</a>, both through formal and informal channels. Many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/women-on-the-move-89kx6lii">resort to illicit routes</a>, making it nearly impossible to count their numbers. Some reports estimate between <a href="https://ekantipur.com/en/news/2024/09/20/amid-the-ban-at-least-60000-women-are-domestic-workers-in-the-gulf-32-59.html" target="_blank">60,000</a>-<a href="https://brunel.figshare.com/articles/online_resource/Reducing_Vulnerability_to_Exploitation_of_Nepali_Migrant_Domestic_Workers/26892934/1?file=48931666" target="_blank">100,000</a>, but anecdotal evidence suggests that the figure could be as high as 500,000. This scale reflects the immense vulnerability of Nepali domestic workers abroad.
<a href="https://kathmandupost.com/columns/2024/08/10/who-benefits-from-migration-bans" target="_blank">Many feel abandoned by those meant to protect and fight for them</a>. Nepal embassies in destination countries fail to support them after they flee abuse and exploitation, especially as they are undocumented.
In many cases, employers confisticate passports or documents of the workers. Stripped of their identity, they rely on the Nepali diaspora or agents to navigate the host country as ‘illegal immigrants’ facing risks of raids, criminalisation, and further exploitation. Many returnee Nepali women have spent months in jail in Gulf countries before being deported back to Nepal.
The <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/two-decades-of-debate-on-female-migration">vulnerabilities and exploitation of migrant domestic workers</a> are discussed in the media, policy, and academic circles, but their deaths are consistently overlooked. Migrant worker fatalities have become synonymous with just male workers, and there is a troubling silence surrounding the deaths of systematically disadvantaged women who are domestic workers.
They often die by suicide, due to exploitation, or from work-related illnesses. Yet, migration bans and the lack of political will to acknowledge the lives, labour, health, and deaths of these women prevent justice for them and their families in the face of tragedy.
Many who die never have their bodies returned to Nepal. For those who are repatriated, it is often due to the intervention of domestic worker organisations in Nepal or the diaspora.&nbsp;
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepal-town-to-ban-mothers-migrating">Migration bans</a> worsen this tragedy, making it nearly impossible for families to report missing or deceased loved ones for<a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/pdf/10.1111/anti.12882" target="_blank"> fear of being criminalised as "traffickers"</a>.
The exploitation and deaths of migrant <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/history-of-female-im-mobility-in-nepal">female domestic workers</a> are ignored due to the grip of patriarchy, class, and caste on Nepal's labour and migration policies. These policies control their mobility, devalue their labour, and fail to provide dignified, sustainable jobs, making their bodies disposable.&nbsp;
As a result, <a href="https://www.brunel.ac.uk/research/Centres/Global-Lives/Forced-Migrant-Labourers/Migrant-Domestic-Workers-of-Nepal" target="_blank">many Nepali women feel abandoned</a> by their state, society, and families. Yet, despite this, they never abandon Nepal or their loved ones.
Many Nepali women migrate to break the cycle of <a href="https://ekantipur.com/opinion/2024/08/06/emergence-of-caste-slavery-among-nepalese-women-27-27.html" target="_blank">caste-based discrimination and gender violence by sending remittances for their children's education</a>. Hence, when a female domestic worker dies, it’s not just their family that suffers, the impact extends to their children and the nation’s future.&nbsp;
These sacrifices of these women, crucial to Nepal’s socio-economic progress, must be acknowledged, valued, and protected. The government must prioritise unconditional recognition of all domestic workers abroad to address the impact of exploitation and deaths of Nepali female migrant domestic workers.
It must inform the Nepali diaspora that it will unconditionally recognise all migrant domestic workers, regardless of documentation status: perhaps the only way to count them abroad.
As Nepal prepares to lift the migration ban on domestic workers, it must not abandon its most vulnerable citizens. This neglect heightens their vulnerability to exploitation and death, and threatens their families in times of tragedy.
&nbsp;We urge the government to raise this issue during the negotiations with the UAE, request immunity for these workers, and take the crucial step of counting domestic workers through Nepali embassies and consulates.
Once this step is taken, the government must expand its welfare net, such as providing insurance coverage, to safeguard workers and their families in worst-case scenarios. Insuring hundreds of thousands of Nepali domestic workers is not just protection, it is an investment in the well-being and future of Nepal.
We hope the pilot program leads to the full lifting of migration bans. But before we celebrate, we must not forget the hundreds of thousands of undocumented Nepali migrant domestic workers already in the Gulf. They are citizens too, and it is the duty of the state not to abandon them.
Ayushman Bhagat, PhD, is a lecturer in Political Geography at Brunel University of London, and Sunita Mainali is the Executive Director of WOREC, Nepal.

Ban on female migrant workers to be lifted

This is the 54th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. <h2>Kumar BK</h2> I have enjoyed playing the flute since I was a young boy. I used to play it in the forest while tending to my cattle or collecting firewood near my village in Khotang. But I am a self-taught musician, I have never played professionally. I know I am not as good as other professional flute players like those I often watch on YouTube. Reaching that skill level requires professional training. It took me a lot of practice to reach my present level. My learning was interrupted because of going overseas. Growing up, my father was always abroad: first in Malaysia and then Qatar. I stayed with my maternal uncle, and childhood was a constant struggle. I had to help my grandparents with the family business, so I only got to attend school thrice a week. Even then, I somehow passed Grade 12. My father returned for good, and in 2014 it was my turn to go and work in Malaysia. I did not manage to save much because of household expenses. My brother has health problems, and a lot of my savings went for his treatment. After three years in Malaysia, I went to Dubai in 2020. Because of a bad contract and Covid-19, things did not work out as I anticipated. During the lockdown I spent a few months in my room without work or pay. Eventually I did get a good job, but after two years my contract was not renewed because of slow business. I came home last year and am now headed to Qatar. Let’s see how things go this time. When my father was away, he used to write home once every few months. We received news of his well-being with much relief. Times have changed now.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214021252_bd2e1b0d8050a884a0efe8ae78bd0d95053424b62ebe6d5bb5a086b07b4bcd8c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241214021252_bd2e1b0d8050a884a0efe8ae78bd0d95053424b62ebe6d5bb5a086b07b4bcd8c" data-rendition-name="original" width="963" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Kumar BK DD 54"></figure>  With my father sending money, we were able to afford household expenses. Before my father left, we lived in a bamboo shed with a small room, but now we have a house and land. He lifted us to a state where we no longer have to worry about affording food or a roof on our heads. Other hardships remain. As a son of a migrant, there was always the expectation that he would bring us a mobile phone. It is only later after working overseas that I realised it is not so easy. My overseas experience did not lead to much progress. We had many unanticipated expenses that took precedence: someone falling ill, someone falling down and needing hospital care. Random expenses left few savings. I have now realised that it is difficult to make progress from migration alone if we do not have other ways to supplement our overseas earnings. If households back home can cover basic expenses like food, overseas earnings can be channeled to more productive investment to uplift the family. If remittance from one family member is the sole income source, then we migrate just to survive. Migrant workers like me have just one goal: to earn as much as possible in a limited timeframe. I am headed overseas again with the same thought. Back in my village, I look for a quiet, shaded spot in a nearby forest to play my flute by myself while tending to livestock. I am often away now, but my neighbours in the village say that when they hear the sound of a flute from the forest, they know I am home. I am taking my flute with me to Qatar. I will practice in my room in my free time. Playing it in my room will give me comfort. <h2>Deepak Darji</h2> I was very young when I lost my father. After that my mother also started falling ill. Before that, our family was doing just fine financially. My childhood was not easy because of her poor health and my father’s absence. School was not really a priority. I had to make sure my mother had the medicines keeping her alive. I had household chores like cooking. My mother often reminded me to go to school, but how could I? The responsibilities were on my shoulders from a young age. At least now, she is getting a cash grant from the government that has eased things a bit. Over the years, I have been doing odd jobs. Things are not easy and finding regular work is difficult in the village. As a musician, I am part of a पञ्चे बाजा troupe that plays at weddings and other rituals. If the event is far from where we live, we make about Rs4,000 and if close by, it can be up to Rs3,000. The frequency of events varies. Some months we have four or five, while at other times it is less. Over a decade ago, I went to Dubai but did not get to work or earn as planned despite spending almost Rs200,000 in fees. I had to rely on fellow villagers in Dubai for help, but they told me this was not a sustainable way to live overseas. They were right. I came home before the end of my contract, and was heavily in debt because I could not save enough to pay my recruitment loans. In fact, I had to borrow additional money to sustain myself while in Dubai.  <figure><img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241214021252_9c68e45a42623952ca8be0e97e8f45f10851f90e5ab33b3646ccbca962666f06.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241214021252_9c68e45a42623952ca8be0e97e8f45f10851f90e5ab33b3646ccbca962666f06" data-rendition-name="original" width="720" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Deepak Darji"></figure>  After returning, I have migrated to various places in India including Shillong, Lucknow, Delhi and Mumbai to work in construction or hotels. I also did short term police duties during the election in Nepal, and the earnings helped while getting to serve the country. I have tried to go overseas again but the first failed experience left a deep scar in my psyche. It was difficult to trust people who said they would find me jobs. I also did not have the Rs300,000 fee they demanded for a job in the Gulf. For Malta they wanted up to Rs800,000. I could not afford such high costs. Now, I have six children to take care of along with my wife and mother. I was finally able to go overseas because the job did not require any recruitment fees. After all, we migrate in the hope that something will work out. Just about everyone is leaving from my village. The well-to-do ones go to Japan and Australia, and people like us to the Gulf. I am taking my shehnai oboe to Qatar to practice during breaks, or when I am bored. Eventually, I will have to come home and resume performing at events, so I cannot afford to get rusty. I had previously taken it to India as well and fellow Nepalis would sometimes ask me to play after a hard day’s work. Our house in the village is known as the ‘radio house’ because the radio is always on. When my grandfather was alive, people would come over to listen to farming programs and radio dramas. He used to encourage fellow villagers to adopt the farming practices that the radio programs talked about. Even today, the radio plays throughout the day, and if it ever stops, people are startled by the silence and say: “कस्तो सुनसान भयो”. Diaspora Diaries is a Nepali Times collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

Migrating with the music of Nepal

“I am headed to Atlantis the Royal to advance my career … it is my dream to work there,” said Kanchan Rai. She passed her apprenticeship interview at one of the most luxurious properties in the UAE, and credits it to her late mother.&nbsp; She says, “I can feel my mother watching over me. After returning to Nepal, I want to start a restaurant in her name.” Other young Nepalis recruited recently by the company Vision and Value shared similar excitement about star chefs at Atlantis they would work with, the multinational colleagues, and opportunities to learn new skills.&nbsp; “Atlantis the Royal in my CV will set me up for life,” beamed another candidate.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015110_9280b5bd5b524b83d114714e2f58d9dd0faeea35de3f8e1c761f579372d5819a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024113015110_9280b5bd5b524b83d114714e2f58d9dd0faeea35de3f8e1c761f579372d5819a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Kanchan Rai with her colleagues.</figcaption> </figure>  Migrating out of ‘compulsion’ is a common theme in Nepal’s public discourse. But here, बाध्यता as a driver for migration was not a prominent feature, in fact it barely came up.&nbsp; Upward mobility during migration merits more attention. Reputable employers offer opportunities for cross-training and career advancement.&nbsp; Seven years ago, Bikash Tripathi went to the UAE to work as a packing staff. A year into his contract, he used his month-long break to cross-train and five promotions later now works as a pastry chef managing a multinational team of eight.&nbsp; “I was always preparing for the next job when I was working, even if it meant using my holidays or covering for colleagues when they were absent. My supervisors took notice,” says Tripathi, who wants to open a restaurant on return to Nepal. “In addition to saving money, I am glad my parents now have financial freedom and don’t have to worry about making ends meet like they did,” he says.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_739c801ebf914dd055335c39a5c9adcf974de2cc31a45f4c43a50c5dc9d904a3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024113015114_739c801ebf914dd055335c39a5c9adcf974de2cc31a45f4c43a50c5dc9d904a3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Pastry chef Bikash Tripathi manages a multinational team of eight in the UAE.</figcaption> </figure>  Some motivated workers invest in their own upskilling. Dharmendra Sah went as a labourer to Qatar at a salary of 700 Riyal. When he left seven years later he was working as a lifting supervisor and earning 6000 Riyals because he followed his colleague’s advice to take a training course.&nbsp; “I did not know what work I would be doing overseas or what my future had in store for me,” he recalls. “I paid 1000 riyals from my own pocket for the training, but it was worth it because it opened up better opportunities.”&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_46e72c40ad7707a0abb31a3da82ca2171e5f52c885c1ac2ba8b6753577453380.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024113015114_46e72c40ad7707a0abb31a3da82ca2171e5f52c885c1ac2ba8b6753577453380" data-rendition-name="original" width="1200" height="1600" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Lifting supervisor Dharmenda Sah who tained and upskilled there abroad.</figcaption> </figure>  The hard-earned perception that Nepalis are loyal and hard-working works to their advantage. But also important is the role of a trusted labour mobility industry to attract the best employers.&nbsp; Ultimately it is the recruiters who matchmake workers and employers. While the internet and more awareness among workers may gradually decrease reliance on them, for now recruitment is heavily intermediated. Factors like under-the-table commissions play a role in helping recruiters bag job demands from overseas employers. These costs are eventually borne by workers as recruitment fees. The competition can be unhealthy with thousands of recruiters from other countries competing against each other.&nbsp; In this race-to-the-bottom, standing out as good actors and responsible businesses can be difficult. Strong credentials are needed, including international licenses and accreditations, marketing and research skills, thorough audits, references from previous clients, capacity to screen and mobilise the right candidates, among others.&nbsp; These aspects of building a strong labour mobility industry have not received adequate policy attention in Nepal. The government also needs to engage more proactively with host country industry associations, employers, and government counterparts.&nbsp; Recruiters often struggle to have a direct approach with employers and instead themselves rely on intermediaries. Interviews with workers in senior positions in the hospitality sector overseas show that Nepal’s recruitment process is rife with bureaucratic hurdles that dissuade employers looking to hire in small numbers.&nbsp; For example, a hotel looking to hire a chef or operation manager would rather not hire from Nepal as it is significantly easier and quicker to do so from the Philippines or India. While these delays are less problematic for bulk hiring, they become a major obstacle for smaller recruitment efforts, or vacancies that need to be filled quickly even when employers are willing to cover all costs and offer competitive salary packages. Attracting good employers to Nepal is not only helpful for migrants’ financial and career growth, but is a way to prevent abuses in the first place. The risk of wage theft or contract infringement is reduced when reputable companies hire directly, and in the event of such incidents, the likelihood of corrective action is higher. Attracting quality employers should be central to Nepal’s foreign employment policy. Setting up migrants for success overseas also means preparing them for success upon return. After working abroad as a rope access cleaner, Rudra Bahadur Gurung established the Asset Integrity Group in Kathmandu, providing internationally accredited training and licensing to both Nepali and non-Nepali migrants seeking to upskill during their vacations.&nbsp; Shiva Sharan Khatri returned to Nepal after working in hotels in Qatar, the UAE, and Seychelles to set up Sankalpa Management Facilities Service, a cleaning company that now employs over 80 workers.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_91f493ca4928b2a10de1dbfb0e4bdf6b178a416ca27b437a6d49ad12694cca03.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024113015114_91f493ca4928b2a10de1dbfb0e4bdf6b178a416ca27b437a6d49ad12694cca03" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="720" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Rudra Sharan Khatri returned to set up a cleaning company which employs over 80 people. </figcaption> </figure>  Both Rudra and Shiva began their migration journeys in low-paying positions and leveraged their overseas experiences to create successful enterprises at home. Not only did they earn more, but also applied their experience in their business enterprises back home. A World Bank study in Bangladesh has shown how temporary migration can help migrant workers overcome credit constraints so they can invest in business creation. Unfortunately, this ‘continuum’ is lacking in many migrant workers. Take Gyanendra’s story. His father was the first to migrate to Qatar and villagers called him ‘Arabe Kafle’ because he has moved across Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, and is now headed to Dubai.&nbsp; Gyanendra had to start from scratch each time, and as a cleaner in his new job in the UAE will work for the same basic salary as younger peers migrating for the first time. Remigration is common from Nepal, but many workers like Gyanendra struggle to build on previous experiences. While they can still use earnings to meet household expenses back home, professional growth takes a backseat with each migration episode. In some case, they are compelled to even accept lower wages and benefits.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024113015114_e28445dccaa225fd6699053d8e99b0374b7287af5f20c0d584ed3bb6d652e20d.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024113015114_e28445dccaa225fd6699053d8e99b0374b7287af5f20c0d584ed3bb6d652e20d" data-rendition-name="original" width="236" height="326" loading="lazy" alt="Labour mobility"> <figcaption>Gyanendra's father ‘Arabe Kafle’.</figcaption> </figure>  The bar is currently set very low, and many workers worry if they will get the promised job, or be able to pay off recruitment loans. Nepalis need reliable employers and recruiters so ‘good migration outcome’ is not just simply about workers getting the promised job or wages, but about attaining their full potential.&nbsp; Outgoing workers need better guidance to make the most of their overseas opportunity. They currently are required to take pre-departure orientation training courses that cover basic do’s and don'ts.&nbsp; But also needed is practical career guidance to improve job readiness with advice on cross-training, building soft skills, networking, promotions so they can make the most of their migration with long-term growth.&nbsp; Successful returnees like Rudra and Shiva would be stellar mentors for younger workers. Exposure, work ethic, learning, skills, technology transfer, and networks are ‘social remittances’ and can be positive gains for Nepal besides financial remittances. &nbsp;

Upasana Khadka

Not just financial, but social remittances

&nbsp;This is the 53rdedition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular column about migration in Nepali Times. I was the first migrant to the Gulf from my village of Chagariya of Dhanusha district. We had heard of people who had gone to Saudi Arabia from neighbouring villages and done well for themselves.&nbsp; There were five children to feed and raise, and we did not have much land. Foreign employment seemed like a good choice. After I left in 1992, many others from my village also became migrant workers, including relatives. I have vivid memories of the day I left home. The whole village showed up to drop me off at the bus station. It was like a wedding. My family members wept, they did not know if I would come back alive. There was so much uncertainty. Nowadays migrating has become so common that people come and go without anyone knowing.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_c15bcbb869d4335ebf5c6bc91ae754982453df2e180299b03eb3f198f8c7c327.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2024112410118_c15bcbb869d4335ebf5c6bc91ae754982453df2e180299b03eb3f198f8c7c327" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Ram Dhani Yadav with his family.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113110_19fd8eadc8fe5ea082dc8ad899dd19643daca0bc7638c1db6e7175a56b56e9dd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2024112113110_19fd8eadc8fe5ea082dc8ad899dd19643daca0bc7638c1db6e7175a56b56e9dd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1768" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> </figure>  Getting on the plane was scary. I had a window seat and the flight attendant helped us with our seat belts and offered us food. I chose the vegetarian meal, and even though they offered beer, I stuck to Dew. Someone from the company was waiting for us at Dammam airport. And the heat! It burnt all the hair on my head. It was impossible without AC. But even in Nepal the heat is suffocating now, and it is hard working on the farm. Seems like we imported not just money, but also the heat from Saudi Arabia. After a couple of months as a labourer, I lost interest in the work. Luckily, I got a job as a company barber since I had experience. I cut the hair of fellow workers from Nepal, India, Pakistan, Korea and the Philippines.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_e8c60f57bd767053f067400da4fcf76514662d4bd418a011b72a30356a3633d8.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2024112410118_e8c60f57bd767053f067400da4fcf76514662d4bd418a011b72a30356a3633d8" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Barbers' tools that Yadav used after he got a job as a company barber in Saudi Arabia.</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_ff2a87da06735fa254b9a10e35fa5163527fbe939421b875150dd02b9adde17c.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="2024112410118_ff2a87da06735fa254b9a10e35fa5163527fbe939421b875150dd02b9adde17c" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="960" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Yadav with the mirrior he used for his side-job as a barber.</figcaption> </figure>  &nbsp;The workers did not have to pay, but if they liked it they gave me handsome tips, fruit juice or even a crate of canned Pepsi. I chatted in Hindi with the Indians and Pakistanis. Those working in scaffolding, welding or drivers earned more and tipped better. Low paid workers left less tips, but I did not mind. I worked in the company’s hair salon which had a fancy revolving chair and big mirror. For off hours and holidays, I had my own makeshift barber corner in camp as my side hustle. I bought my own mirror, hung it on a rod and my clients sat on a stool. I would also drop by one of the salons in the market to earn some extra cash on our days off. Times were different back then. There were no mobiles and my wife had to travel a long way to receive calls on a CDMA phone from Ram Dayal’s shop at a pre-arranged date and time. The calls were brief because they were expensive.&nbsp; We had more detailed communications through cassette tapes that we sent each other. Whenever I felt homesick, I listened to the voices of my wife and children over and over again – especially the girls who were always loud and chirpy.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113110_d91691006f5ab08532b5a2e76e737c2dfd9edcff175bd5617f9053a4269f17ce.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024112113110_d91691006f5ab08532b5a2e76e737c2dfd9edcff175bd5617f9053a4269f17ce" data-rendition-name="original" width="2056" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>This is the cassette tape case Yadav had sent home from Saudi Arabia over three decades ago. His handwriting reads: Sender: Ram Dhani Yadav, Saudi Arab (Dammam) Receiver: Sita Devi Yadav, Ward No 3, Chagariya, Nepal </figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112113114_86cc0ffc1a1df040656a31f8876f2d48cc50b6f1f96b4ee8840c2174fce45c98.jpg" data-media-id="editor_5" data-image-id="2024112113114_86cc0ffc1a1df040656a31f8876f2d48cc50b6f1f96b4ee8840c2174fce45c98" data-rendition-name="original" width="1791" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> </figure>  When I missed my family, I would play the tapes on a Sony that I bought for 60 riyal. When I was alone in my camp dorm, I would record whatever I wanted to tell my family, replay the recording and if it was good enough, I sent it to Nepal with some cash, wrapping it all in layers of cellotape. Every night before going to sleep, I would re-listen to the voices of my family. I kept the player close to my ears at a very low volume as I shared the room with four or five others. Even hearing about mundane everyday things from the village over and over again in the voices of my wife and daughters filled me with joy after work. One day, someone from management said I had a call from Nepal. It was news of my youngest son’s death, and that was a painful moment. He was just 18 months old. In a tape that followed, my family filled in the details: he had died of measles. I responded by recording my own feelings on tape and consoled them.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024112410118_9e698ea6b9c7d9806444eed194df1227249003ba5b8644557ebdcef549e7263e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="2024112410118_9e698ea6b9c7d9806444eed194df1227249003ba5b8644557ebdcef549e7263e" data-rendition-name="original" width="4032" height="2268" loading="lazy" alt="DD 53"> <figcaption>Yadav now talks to his son, who is also overseas for work, through video calls on his mobile phone.</figcaption> </figure>  My company offered to send me home on mourning break for a month. What was the point? My son was already gone, so I could not bring him back. Instead, I grieved on my own in Saudi Arabia before I resumed work. The company was kind enough to pay me my basic wages. During my time overseas, I came home thrice. When I left for Saudi Arabia after my third vacation home, I wept as my mother was in poor health and paralysed. I just could not stay away, so three weeks later I returned to Nepal on a one-way ticket. I brought back my barbershop mirror, and it still hangs on my wall. <div class="embed-block"><div><div style="left: 0; width: 100%; height: 0; position: relative; padding-bottom: 56.25%;"><iframe src="//cdn.iframe.ly/api/iframe?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fembed%2FDXX3kPW42oc%3Fsi%3DolveYQBO4UYjBKl&key=87ca3314a9fa775b5c3a7726100694b0" style="top: 0; left: 0; width: 100%; height: 100%; position: absolute; border: 0;" allowfullscreen scrolling="no" allow="accelerometer *; clipboard-write *; encrypted-media *; gyroscope *; picture-in-picture *; web-share *;"></iframe></div></div></div> <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad.

"The first migrant worker from my village"

Quake survivors migrate for work

I was born in Mumbai where my father worked as a watchman. When I was just four years old, my parents decided that it would be best if my mother went back to our home district of Achham in Nepal to take care of our house and farm. And off she went with my one-year-old brother. In her absence, we lived close to his workplace. He worked shifts, and was not always home when I returned from school. I learnt to cook for both of us at a young age, even though I do not consider myself a good cook.&nbsp; From childhood, I had this innate sense of responsibility and completed my homework or rote-learned for exams even when I was not under parental watch.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_2a8ae15dc440b94aff7a6146e7ce457bb21376cbd206d1ff503e9f83ea2a4334.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="20241101221140_2a8ae15dc440b94aff7a6146e7ce457bb21376cbd206d1ff503e9f83ea2a4334" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> <figcaption>Bishwokarma was married at 15 to a 13-year-old girl also from Achham who, like him, was also born and raised in Mumbai.</figcaption> </figure>  Growing up around Nepali families in the neighbourhood, I picked up Nepali. Not having a mother figure around, I did not really know what I missed as it had always been that way. My mother and I communicated in letters that were about a paragraph-long without much substance other than basic pleasantries and updates from school. I was more accustomed to my father, with whom I shared a special bond. I married young at 15 to a 13-year old girl who was also born in Mumbai to migrants from Achham. My mother came to my wedding and it was the first time we met after she had left over a decade ago. My mother returned with my wife to Achham where my city grown wife learnt how to do village household chores. Unsurprisingly, she did not like it, but she stayed on for two years. While she was trained by my mother in Achham, I was continuing my school in Mumbai.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_dbb23b8a76397c7cd7b9b640455a6d0b274d7411e91032a34d118a33d1ac0069.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="20241101221140_dbb23b8a76397c7cd7b9b640455a6d0b274d7411e91032a34d118a33d1ac0069" data-rendition-name="original" width="1280" height="1280" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  After my wedding, I went to Achham for the first time ever. With no mental image of what it would look like, I did not know what to expect. Life in Nepal took some getting used to but with the visits I grew attached to Nepal and I got familiar with Nepali songs and movies via YouTube. My father eventually moved back to Nepal. My mother needed more help around the house to tend the fields. By then, I had settled down in Mumbai with my wife and four children and worked as a watchman, just like my father. My now-jobless father now depended on me. This put more financial pressure on me. I used to enjoy playing cricket growing up. But when household responsibilities start weighing on you from a young age, there is no space in life for hobbies and passions. By the time I was of age to discover and nurture my interests, I was already worrying about raising my children well.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_0ccd2cd0e243a5124f13047a2d7caad5df462b2e396745b0381393e385b76301.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20241101221140_0ccd2cd0e243a5124f13047a2d7caad5df462b2e396745b0381393e385b76301" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  Life in Mumbai is fast-paced. Everyone is running around. My company closed down, and I lost my job. I then bought an autorickshaw, and my daily income varies between INR 700-1,500. I prefer this more than being a watchman, as there is more freedom. It is self-paced, and there is time to rest. There is no boss to order me around. My three sons work as a vegetable vendor, a real estate agent and a cinematographer, and my daughter is a nurse. They also take care of some of the household expenses. What I earn is just for my pocket money and to keep myself occupied. What would I do sitting around idly? If I had a traditional job, I would be retiring in three years after turning 60. But as an autorickshaw driver, there is no end at sight. I will retire when my body demands it.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20241101221140_2f370b6e52af5460cfd7b4a4761a557baef3a3b2158cfdaa5ac3bb0bdcd0065b.jpg" data-media-id="editor_3" data-image-id="20241101221140_2f370b6e52af5460cfd7b4a4761a557baef3a3b2158cfdaa5ac3bb0bdcd0065b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="1200" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51 NT"> </figure>  I don’t interact much with my customers as I have to keep my eye on the road at all times. Mumbai traffic is bad. Sometimes, customers hail three-wheelers like mine when the cars they have booked online do not arrive on time because of traffic. They have meetings to attend or flights to catch, and they are thankful when I stop to pick them up.&nbsp; Other than that, the interactions are quite limited. Most customers are glued to their phones. Some even bring out their laptops. My job is to ensure they reach their destinations. Three years ago, I received a call from Achham about my father’s heart attack. I was arranging my travel to Nepal, but he passed away that night. I still went to Achham for his last rites, and I cannot describe how difficult it was to make that long journey alone while grieving my father’s loss. As I changed buses and trains across India, all I could think about was my father.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2024110203118_3da6e8d233ba52600ae4902d65ba754436340d577e6fce5e3c91f39a507866c3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2024110203118_3da6e8d233ba52600ae4902d65ba754436340d577e6fce5e3c91f39a507866c3" data-rendition-name="original" width="1700" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 51"> </figure>  We moved my mother to Gujarat where my brother works as a watchman as we did not want to leave her alone in Achham. Our house there is now empty.&nbsp; Just like I was close to my father who raised me, my brother is close to our mother. My brother and I have never spent more than a few days together because we were separated as children. I visit them in Gujarat once in a while. I have lived a simple and perhaps even a boring life. There have been enough hardships, but nothing that I have not been able to sort out on my own. I have not had to depend on others. God has been restrained in the way he sends me problems. We are all entangled in our own झमेला troubles. Translated from a conversation with the author. <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times in collaboration with Migration Lab providing a platform to share experiences of living, working, studying abroad. The previous 50 columns can be accessed in this <a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1uR6pzwfR91KAezRODgDIz2FWI6m2xjPL/view">ebook</a>. Watch video of Harka Lal Bishwokarma <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rusYgB9B3rs">here</a>. <div class="embed-block"><iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/rusYgB9B3rs?si=-E3SnyAv00I3ZUm1" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" referrerpolicy="strict-origin-when-cross-origin" allowfullscreen></iframe></div>

“I have lived a simple, boring life”

Just before Dasain this time last year, two young Nepali women were about to leave for Dubai. They were offered jobs to perform at cultural programs, but did not have proper travel documents.
One of them was a friend of Archana Darji, a journalist with our sister publication <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/">himalkhabar.com</a>. As <a href="https://www.himalkhabar.com/news/142859">she writes in her blog</a>, it was clear they were being trafficked by a gang of recruiters who had paid off Kathmandu airport immigration.&nbsp;
The girls had to support their families, and were determined to go despite knowing the risks. One of them soon returned because she fell sick, and could not bring herself to tell Darji what the work was in Dubai.&nbsp;
One year later, she has once more paid a recruiter for a job in Dubai, and is about to fly off again.
Most of the focus on overseas remittances gives credit to male migrant workers sending money home. The question around migrant women is often why they go despite knowing about exploitation and abuse.&nbsp;
That is the wrong question. We know why. Instead, we should be asking what can be done immediately to ensure safe migration for Nepali women — both in Nepal and in destination countries.
In 2017, following high profile cases of abuse of women domestic migrant workers in West Asia, the government imposed a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/two-decades-of-debate-on-female-migration">blanket ban on female migration</a>. This misguided decision drove recruitment underground, forcing women to take unauthorised channels, increasing the risk of trafficking en route.
Many were stranded in Mumbai or Delhi, and being outside the safety net of Nepali embassies and consulates made their rescue and repatriation difficult.
<a href="https://figshare.com/articles/online_resource/Reducing_Vulnerability_to_Exploitation_of_Nepali_Migrant_Domestic_Workers/26892934?file=48931666">A new study by Brunel University London</a> calls for Nepali women migrants to be given skills-training and language orientation so they can migrate without being trafficked, exploited or abused.&nbsp;
‘The ban overlooks evidence of positive outcomes for Nepali domestic workers and leads to several unintended and damaging consequences,’ the study says, adding there should be ‘concrete reintegration plans for returnee domestic workers at the local level of governance to assure their social, political and economic empowerment’.
The report's author Ayushman Bhagat, lecturer of Political Geography at Brunel, interviewed women including recent returnees in Jhapa. He found them distrustful and angry with the government for making it more difficult for them to migrate.&nbsp;
“Instead of solving structural issues of class, caste, education, these women are having to bear the burden of historical marginalisation,” Bhagat told Nepali Times. “All they want is for their children to not have to lead the same life they did, and migration is the quickest way to their empowerment.”
Many <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/homes-away-from-home">women migrating for domestic work</a> are at greater risk of being cheated by recruiters in Nepal, trafficked en route, and abused in destination countries. Even when they do return bearing the scars of abuse, they leave again out of sheer desperation.
Officially, one in every ten Nepali migrant workers is a woman but many more who are undocumented or migrate to India are not counted. Their <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/female-migrant-workers-hold-up-half-the-sky">contribution to the economy and family income</a> is rarely acknowledged.&nbsp;
This is hardly surprising, given the marginalisation Nepali women face at home, and the double discrimination women of excluded caste and ethnicities experience in society.
Over the years, the government has flip flopped on women migration, introducing shamefully restrictive and ad hoc gender-insensitive rules. One such regulation (<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/nepali-women-protest-proposed-travel-restrictions">later revoked after outrage</a>, pictured) even required <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/history-of-female-im-mobility-in-nepal">women under 40 to obtain permission letters</a> from male family members and the local government for travel.
Part of the problem is the media’s doom and gloom portrayal of migration that magnifies the negative.&nbsp;
True, there are harrowing cases of abuse and exploitation, and workers are cheated every step of the way, often by their own relatives and recruiters. But Bhagat says there are many other positive outcomes for women workers.
“We must highlight how the women are contributing to society, not everyone is being exploited and frankly to think otherwise is a very privileged mindset,” adds Bhagat.
Nepal’s graduation to middle income country is almost entirely supported by remittances reducing the poverty rate. Many returnees have improved family living standards, and created jobs for other Nepalis.
<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/labour-mobility/migrating-for-domestic-work">Restrictions and bans never work</a>. Bhagat has some common sense steps to making migration safer for women: &nbsp;
- Invite all women workers to register with Nepali missions regardless of their status with no repercussion.
- Strengthen the capacity of Nepali missions abroad to help workers in need at dedicated service centres.
- Form government-to-government legally binding arrangements for safe migration.
- Thoroughly vet <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/a-long-way-to-europe">new labour markets</a> and regulate recruitment at the local levels.
Sonia Awale

Safer migration for women

Sujan Rawat had come to Kathmandu from Karnali in the hope of somehow <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/dead-end-of-the-korean-dream">making it to Korea</a> to pay off family debt. His dreams and that of his family back home was dashed on Friday on the Ring Road in Kathmandu. He was one of the two aspirants hoping to go to Korea who were killed in a police charge at Balkumari in Lalitpur. Applicants for <a href="http://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korea-treating-Nepali-migrant-workers-right,2813">Korea jobs</a> had gathered at the Korean Employment Permit System (EPS) office in Balkumari to protest a recent decision that disallowed them from applying for a mandatory Korean language test.&nbsp; The angry protesters set fire to the car of Physical Infrastructure and Transport Minister Prakash Jwala. As the violence intensified, riot police was deployed to control the situation. They charged the agitators with batons as well as firing tear gas and rubber bullets.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20231230121220_c84479e7c80b289e0f55ad48a39f66a1ee042738c90bb63d5465dba6336a8b10.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="20231230121220_c84479e7c80b289e0f55ad48a39f66a1ee042738c90bb63d5465dba6336a8b10" data-rendition-name="original" width="2048" height="1306" loading="lazy" alt="Balkumari EPS protest"> <figcaption>Protesters set fire to the car of Physical Infrastructure and Transport Minister Prakash Jwala.</figcaption> </figure>  Rawal had left his room earlier in the morning looking for his older brother who had also joined the protest. Having arrived in Kathmandu just a week before, Rawat did not know his way around but managed to reach Balkumari. Rawat was just walking on his side of the road when the police suddenly charged at him, said Roshan Katuwal, a relative. “He wasn’t there to protest, he was minding his own business when the police took him for one of the demonstrators,” he told Nepali Times. “A heavy blow to his chest is what killed him.” Rawat was taken to the nearby KIST Hospital but there wasn't much doctors could do to save his life. “He was brought in unconscious at 12:40PM, he succumbed to his injuries at 1:17PM while undergoing treatment,” Amish Pathak, executive officer of KIST Hospital told us. “He had a blue bruise on his chest.” Rawat had followed his older brother to Kathmandu from Dailekh Bazar where his family ran a small shop. But when his father was diagnosed with a brain tumor, the family could not afford treatment. They incurred debts, the responsibility of which had fallen on Rawat to clear. “His father passed away less than a year ago and now this has befallen the family,” added Katuwal. Rawat has a mother and a younger sister and a brother back home who had all their hopes pinned on Rawat. Rawat himself wanted to continue his studies after completing high school. But his family situation meant he didn't see any other option but to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/delayed-dreams-for-korea-bound-nepalis">migrate overseas</a> to pay off the loans.&nbsp; As soon as he reached Kathmandu, Rawat enrolled himself in a Korean language class and was preparing for the EPS exam. Birendra Shah of Achham was seriously injured in the police charge on Friday, and taken to Patan Hospital but he died during the treatment. The government has announced Rs1 million in compensation for the families of Rawat and Shah, as well as suspension of the key security officials involved until further investigations. The protest was triggered by a notice published by the EPS office which stated that for the applicants to be eligible to apply for the test, they should not have done so in 2023. In many ways, the protest is a representation of the frustration and desperation of the youths against the political system that does not even ensure basic rights and jobs to the people. Oftentimes, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/50-diaspora-diaries-in-nepali-times">labour migration is their only hope</a>. Following the notice, 12 individuals including Tarka Bahadur Paul filed a writ in the Patan High Court on 28 December. The single bench of Judge Chandramani Gyawali gave an interim order not to stop anyone from filling out the application form for the Korean language test, stating that it was a violation of their rights. The court's order states, '...as the petition presented by these petitioners will be addressed during the final hearing, from the point of view of the irreparable damage to the petitioners and inconvenience, it is not reasonable to deprive the petitioners of filling the application form, and interested persons of the same nature as the petitioners...' As per the order, all the agitating youths will now be able to apply for the EPS exam. But Rawat and Shah will have lost their lives in vain. There are about 80,000 <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Korean-kafala-migrants-in-Korea,4025">Nepali migrant workers in Korea’s farms and factories</a> and their situation is better than other countries in the Gulf. Salaries are higher and labour rights are guaranteed. Which is why there is such high demand from Nepali migrants for jobs in Korea. The EPS exam system is supposed to streamline the selection process, but it ended up costing the lives of two promising young lads.

Karnali to Korea dream dashed in Kathmandu

This is the 50th edition of Diaspora Diaries, a regular series in Nepali Times with stories of Nepalis living and working abroad. When I was growing up in Nuwakot, I used to see fellow villagers come back from Kathmandu wearing fancy clothes and carrying a certain swagger. They were earning good money in the garment industry, so I followed them and joined a factory in Kathmandu. I started out as a helper, but after three months, asked the manager to let me use the sewing machine. I experimented, taught myself how to use it based on observation and guidance from others. Fortunately, it came easy for me. The garment industry has been my entire world since then. It is all I know, and all I understand. I spent eight years working in the factory in Nepal and became good at it. We made clothes that were exported to the Netherlands where the garment owner knew a fellow Nepali. An acquaintance once suggested that I go overseas as there was demand for garment jobs in Jordan. I am not sure if it was, as they say, लहर or रहर (fad or fervor) but in 2012 we applied. The Chinese interviewer who had come from Jordan took a test asking interviewees to sew pockets on a piece of fabric. But I was asked to pull a thread through needles in an overlock sewing machine, which I did seamlessly. I was selected, and a few months later flew off to Jordan. I didn't even know where Jordan was. Life overseas for us migrant workers was like going to school again. You stay in the dormitory, and show up to work every morning, looking forward to that one day off every week. Every day is the same as the previous day, and you race to maximise output. In Nepal, one worker would be responsible for the entire garment. But in Jordan we had an assembly line of 35 or so workers, all Nepalis in my case, who stitched specific parts of the jacket- whether it was a sleeve cuff or armhole. It was faster. The jackets were sold in Japan, the US for about $100 each, and were of good quality. Things in the factory felt systematic. I will always remember a Nepali dai who had been in Jordan for years, and was familiar with the place and spoke Arabic. He welcomed us when we first arrived and told us to let him know if we needed any help. Jordan did not have a Nepal embassy, but as far as we were concerned he was our ambassador.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023121808120_f9ced66ffd52da470ef9e45433fef5e990ccc2e8487cec53a92465b79ab494eb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_0" data-image-id="2023121808120_f9ced66ffd52da470ef9e45433fef5e990ccc2e8487cec53a92465b79ab494eb" data-rendition-name="original" width="480" height="640" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries NT"> </figure>  Ten months later, I fell sick. I did not want to remain in Jordan in case I became more ill or if I needed hospitalisation or surgery. Who would take care of me? &nbsp;I missed my family, especially my wife, so I returned to Nepal. A few years later after the earthquake of 2015, the same employers showed up for interviews in Nepal. I was also looking for better earning opportunities so I applied again. The interviewer recognised me and rehired me instantly. I found comfort in knowing that I already knew some of the colleagues and fellow Nepalis from my previous stint at the company.&nbsp; This time, I stuck around in Jordan from 2016 right till Covid-19. I saved up Rs70,000 every month, a large part of it tied to bonuses as the basic salaries by themselves were lower. In Nepal, I struggle to save any money but it was easier there because living expenses are taken care of. So even if the salaries may not be much higher than Nepal, it is easier to save overseas. We all have some form of skills or talent, it is money that we don’t have. That is why we go abroad. My father was a simple farmer and I did not inherit property. I started from zero, but with overseas employment, I was at least able to save some money and build a base for myself and my family. I have bought some assets, and am working hard now to ensure adequate savings for my wife and my &nbsp;old age security as well as the children’s future. During the pandemic we were kept in the company accommodation without work, but we were paid our monthly salaries. We also received some assistance from the Jordan government which I appreciated. But I decided to return to Nepal because work got slower and with it our incomes dropped. If it had not been for Covid, I do not think I would have returned. I was doing just fine there. On my brother’s advice, I started a small company in Kathmandu that produces and sells bags. Post-Covid a lot of shop fronts were vacant, so it was easy to get a good rental deal. My wife and I make and sell bags, which has allowed us to have a decent life. Our major clients are schools and offices in the neighborhood. The savings abroad and my benefits after leaving helped.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023121808120_ff1e34ba356e18e33dbe3d0ded04fc46429b12be1c30af5f512929c5ce07ddd1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_1" data-image-id="2023121808120_ff1e34ba356e18e33dbe3d0ded04fc46429b12be1c30af5f512929c5ce07ddd1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries 50"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2023121808120_ec75d1654ee0e49a63532d54dcdcd66de0ffcfc8c98633b2f62e68bd0201424a.jpg" data-media-id="editor_2" data-image-id="2023121808120_ec75d1654ee0e49a63532d54dcdcd66de0ffcfc8c98633b2f62e68bd0201424a" data-rendition-name="original" width="1600" height="900" loading="lazy" alt="Diaspora Diaries"> </figure>  &nbsp;I now aspire to go to Europe for work, which unfortunately has not worked out despite a few attempts. I have also lost some money in the process. It makes me wonder if it is God’s way of telling me to remain in Nepal. But my motivation to migrate again is different this time. When I went to Jordan, finances were my only concern. It brought me to a position where I can confidently say I have the skills and a base to sustain myself comfortably in Nepal, even if I continue the work I am doing now. It is for the children that I want to go to Europe, so that they have access to better opportunities and an easier life than we did. Translated from a conversation with the author. <a href="https://www.nepalitimes.com/here-now/diaspora-diaries-3/">Diaspora Diaries</a> is a regular column in Nepali Times providing a platform for Nepalis to share their experiences of living, working, studying abroad.&nbsp; Authentic and original entries can be sent to <a href="mailto:editors@nepalitimes.com">editors@nepalitimes.com</a> with Diaspora Diaries in the subject line.&nbsp;

Nepali on the move

In the black and white photograph, General Wangdu smiles broadly in front of the dusty cactus garden in Kathmandu’s Annapurna Hotel. With an ill-fitting jacket and shaggy hair he looks benign enough, but this was the last leader of the Tibetan freedom fighters who led the resistance against the Chinese from their remote mountain hideouts in <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/comings-and-goings-in-mustang">Mustang</a>. Five months later, Wangdu was dead. Snapped in March 1974, I had only recently arrived in Nepal. How did I meet this legendary fighter? Possibly with his devoted camp follower, Lynne Klapecki, and probably in the Om Restaurant near Freak Street which was the preferred <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/hippie-trail-nostalgia-in-kathmandu">hippie hang-out</a>. Om Lobsang and his brother Yeshe were <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/page/earthquake-brings-back-memories-of-camps-for-tibetan-refugees">refugees from East Tibet </a>whose cafe offered a friendly welcome and<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/momo-loco"> the best momos</a> - they became my in-laws after I married their eldest brother Tenzin, but that was a decade later.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_4573b34282b0f5395c007243d6bef12c7ba76bfd520419e994cdcea048d795a1.jpg" data-media-id="editor_4" data-image-id="2025052403054_4573b34282b0f5395c007243d6bef12c7ba76bfd520419e994cdcea048d795a1" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1583" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>Photo: LISA CHOEGYAL</figcaption> </figure>  Wangdu’s English was enthusiastically rudimentary, but even riding around town with him on the back of an aging <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/kathmandu-s-new-motorbike-museum">motorbike</a>, he was a commanding presence. Always flanked by armed outriders, impressive scars marked his forearms and a pistol hung from the cord around his neck. A charismatic guerrilla leader, Wangdu was celebrated by his followers for his tough commitment and respected for his measured pragmatism. He seemed so young to have shouldered such a responsibility of command, leading hundreds of hardened <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/50-years-after-the%20raid-into-Tibet,1012#google_vignette">Khampa combatants </a>through what had been a particularly <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/news/heavy-snowfall-over-nepal-himalaya">brutal winter in Mustang</a>, the last bastion to hold out against the Chinese invasion of their Tibetan homeland.&nbsp; The freedom fighters of Tibet, known as the Chushi-Gangdruk, had emerged to resist the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/editorial/territorialism">Chinese takeover</a> of Tibet during the 1950s. Estimated to be 80,000-strong at the time of <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/what-or-who-after-the-dalai-lama">the Dalai Lama</a>’s final escape to India in 1959, the sheer number of Chinese deployed into Tibet eventually forced the Chushi-Gangdruk to retreat to Mustang, From this high Himalayan stronghold, they continued cross-border raids on the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) throughout the 1960s.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_8a4a935ba25ae79dc3a63bb5c14626927020e5ec098093c45ccb9a5982e009fd.jpg" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="2025052403054_8a4a935ba25ae79dc3a63bb5c14626927020e5ec098093c45ccb9a5982e009fd" data-rendition-name="original" width="1114" height="676" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>Guerrillas known as the Chushi-Gangdruk emerged to resist the Chinese annexation of Tibet during the 1950s. Photo courtesy: MIKEL DUNHAM</figcaption> </figure>  Their Kathmandu base was a small discreet lodge in a back lane near Rani Pokhari. Sipping sweet tea from a blue mug with a chipped lid, I sat bemused in a corner of the Mustang Hotel room whilst Wangdu and his cohorts received a battered brown suitcase from their CIA connection, a tousle-haired American in a leather jacket. Heaved onto the dingy bedspread that covered the thin mattress, it was clicked open to reveal piles of neatly stacked dollar bills.&nbsp; I cannot think why Wangdu allowed me to witness this handover but I was clearly no threat, a newly arrived world traveller with no understanding of the stakes nor any Nepali or <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/tibetan-music-in-nepals-sacred-valley">Tibetan language</a>. Despite armed guards in the corridor,Wangdu radiated confidence and bravado, and there was a practiced familiarity to the tense transaction. This deadly dance for many years had been funded by the Americans, tolerated by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/the-kingdom-within-a-republic">Mustang’s residents</a>, and permitted by King Mahendra and the Nepali authorities who it suited to turn a blind eye.&nbsp; But Mahendra died in 1972, and times were changing. Richard Nixon’s ping-pong diplomacy thawed the cold war and signalled a fresh entente with China. Nepal’s yet-to-be-crowned <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/if-birendra-was-alive-nepal-could-still-be-a-monarchy">King Birendra </a>was under pressure to curb the irritating incursions against the PLA launched from the Nepali territory of Mustang. Keen to appease his northern neighbour, on several occasions the King summoned Wangdu for peace talks but, despite increasingly overwhelming odds, Wangdu refused to surrender.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_a8efd5cfb92cd997bd7cb74296a936fef46e2f7428f9cd642b03f1ac4ea11ecb.jpg" data-media-id="editor_14" data-image-id="2025052403054_a8efd5cfb92cd997bd7cb74296a936fef46e2f7428f9cd642b03f1ac4ea11ecb" data-rendition-name="original" width="1055" height="885" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>General Wangdu flanked by two Tibetan resistance fighters in Mustang in the 1970s. Photo courtesy: MIKEL DUNHAM</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_75969125a745847a2ef82b6fe8b9106c0b21a116d85b8efdf5d2ee89a347bb31.jpg" data-media-id="editor_15" data-image-id="2025052403054_75969125a745847a2ef82b6fe8b9106c0b21a116d85b8efdf5d2ee89a347bb31" data-rendition-name="original" width="1044" height="792" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>King Birendra with General Wangdu (right in dark glasses) taken in 1974 possibly in Mustang after one of their few attempts at negotiation. Photo courtesy: RAJRNDRA KUNWAR</figcaption> </figure>  While I naively rode pillion around Kathmandu in the spring sunshine, Wangdu was in the midst of what turned out to be his final round of negotiations with the Nepal government. Refusing to cease hostilities with the Chinese, Wangdu must have suspected the cost of his decision, making his cheerful smile in the photograph all the more poignant and brave. It was only much later that I appreciated the significance of the moment. Wangdu had been sent to replace the first resistance leader in Mustang, Baba Gen Yeshe, a much derided corrupt character who stole money meant for his troops and exploited fleeing refugees by seizing their treasures. Baba Gen Yeshe never forgave Wangdu,and sought revenge in May 1974 by betraying him and his commanders to the Nepal authorities. Renewed Chinese incursions from the north, active PLA collusion with the Nepali forces under the new King, and treachery from within the Chushi-Gangdrukranks combined to seal their fate.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_e0987a7c90d76431b0d7d5e6115ebfe3dbda7ab939e5941e079c18d722e884c0.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="2025052403054_e0987a7c90d76431b0d7d5e6115ebfe3dbda7ab939e5941e079c18d722e884c0" data-rendition-name="original" width="1400" height="769" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>British television journalists George Patterson and Adrian Cowell embedded themselves with Khampa guerrillas and accompanied them from Tsum Valley on a cross border raid on a Chinese Army convoy in 1964. Photo: ESSAYS ON NEPAL / SAM COWAN</figcaption> </figure>  Mikel Dunham, renowned author of Buddha’s Warriors, writes: ‘It is possible that Wangdu was waiting for some cue from the Dalai Lama’s government-in-exile in Dharamsala, India. It is equally possible – during that last, <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/the-human-cost-of-nepal-s-yarsa-gold-rush?fbclid=IwZXh0bgNhZW0CMTEAAR31-Cqw8oyIwMPzf_35e4Skr0ululJvLf3_vDkzHn-AYG2h8uPw2rqqErg_aem_tGVn5coY1-jA7fze_xqhew">desolate winter </a>– that he made the decision to go out in glory rather than admit defeat. Over the last fifteen years, Wangdu had experienced Tibet’s organized resistance being squeezed and shoved around by every conceivable outside force.&nbsp; First they had been pushed out of their own country by the PLA; then they had been refused sanction while on <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/opinion/borderlines/nepal-india-trans-boundary-bonds?fbclid=IwAR0PpJ5zUEbwdug3g_U3ar6FUugngRY0S8Tl2v_7wqzrsHmXWcXsKjvL4t4">Indian soil</a>; then they were abandoned by the Americans because, apparently, Nixon wanted to make friends with Wangdu’s mortal enemies, the communists; then they had been betrayed by the vampiric Baba Gen Yeshe – a Tibetan and, even worse, a fellow Khampa; and now, finally Wangdu’s army was being evicted by the Nepalis. One thing was certain: Wangdu was a warrior. To imagine Wangdu simply giving up and settling down in the pacific squalor of a <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/elderly-left-in-bhutan-refugee-camp">refugee camp </a>was unthinkable.’  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_8fc1ffef4ae751628b90ae781b66e11e51e4fdde2787207c9042efbee345ce49.jpg" data-media-id="editor_20" data-image-id="2025052403054_8fc1ffef4ae751628b90ae781b66e11e51e4fdde2787207c9042efbee345ce49" data-rendition-name="original" width="500" height="746" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>The much derided Baba Gen Yeshe, the first Tibetan resistance leader in Mustang, who betrayed Wangdu for personal gain. Photo courtesy: MIKEL DUNHAM</figcaption> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/2025052403054_b1d833cdb00d3ac4416b844d8730475cd88c238caaaf8da69889a584eea229a3.jpg" data-media-id="editor_21" data-image-id="2025052403054_b1d833cdb00d3ac4416b844d8730475cd88c238caaaf8da69889a584eea229a3" data-rendition-name="original" width="500" height="656" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> <figcaption>Aditya SJB Rana of the Royal Nepal Army whose team ambushed Wangdu and his cohorts at the top of Tinker Pass in Darchula, West Nepal. Photo courtesy: GAUTAM SJB RANA</figcaption> </figure>  By August 1974 the game was up. Wangdu and six of his exhausted party were killed on their horses by <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=7270">the Royal Nepal Army</a> on the brink of escape. The officer in charge, Aditya SJB Rana, cleverly predicted their route into India after they failed to silence a police radio in Yari. A carefully laid ambush trapped them near the summit of the Tinker Pass in Darchula,at 5,000 meters the highest military operation of its time. Wangdu’s body was helicoptered to Kathmandu, and a big show made of the royal Nepal victory.&nbsp; The Tibetan armed insurgency against China had reached its end.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250524030520_3ff9c6fc85a65bc9a2c3afe9736d9f5f9413de752e790a5d9dca0981ea94f9b4.jpg" data-media-id="editor_23" data-image-id="20250524030520_3ff9c6fc85a65bc9a2c3afe9736d9f5f9413de752e790a5d9dca0981ea94f9b4" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="The last days of the Khampa NT"> </figure>

The Last Days of the Khampa

Starting 17 September Turkish Airlines will fly daily to Seville, one of Spain’s major tourist draws. This is Turkish’s sixth destination in Spain after Madrid, Barcelona, Valencia, Malaga, and Bilbao. Seville is in the Andalusia region on Spain’s south coast with a rich Moor history. There are approximately 30,000 Nepalis living in Spain.&nbsp;

Turkish to Seville

The newly-formed Himalayan Art Council is set to launch Nepal’s National Art Protection Platform that seeks to preserve <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/the-history-of-heritage">Nepal’s unique cultural heritage </a>using<a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/artificial-censorship"> AI-powered tools</a>. The Council seeks to safeguard <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepali-art-going-places">Nepali art works</a> from neglect, theft and counterfeiting as well as preserve existing artwork and celebrate living masters by giving them a cultural space to continue the <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/sacred-survival">sacred art traditions</a>. "We are introducing a new digital platform designed to preserve, verify and elevate <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/banner/nepals-new-generation-of-alternative-artists">Nepal’s art for generations to come,</a>” says a statement from the Council, adding that the digital platform will use AI told for authentication and blockchain to keep track of works of art. Artists can now be protected by <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/ayo-ai?fbclid=IwAR1uwmTVq4gUB70ljfRezjzukD9ArWXPuMnUikopeQ8PoiZMjicToPSwhKE&amp;=1">AI tools</a> that detect forgeries, identify their work even when unsigned, and ensure they receive proper recognition and credit. The archives will be searchable with translated inscription and interactive guides. Says curator Meena Lama: “AI and blockchains are tools that give us the power to detect fakes and identify unsigned paintings and track every piece. With these tools we can restore trust, secure authorship and give artists the dignity they deserve.”  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250514170544_2ab58f6313c0458f75114a692b0016bd9efb3b59d5f8f07f0da72e1e37b82f53.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250514170544_2ab58f6313c0458f75114a692b0016bd9efb3b59d5f8f07f0da72e1e37b82f53" data-rendition-name="original" width="1300" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Artwork at the Traditional Art Exhibition at Patan Museum."> <figcaption>Artwork at the Traditional Art Exhibition at Patan Museum.</figcaption> </figure>  The Council is also holding an exhibition of Nepali cultural masterpieces with 50 historical <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/Nepali-Times-Buzz/Buzz-the-art,671">thangka and paubha </a>by past masters and <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/between-the-sacred-and-everyday">contemporary works by current artists</a>. This curated collection is a living tribute to <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/here-now/when-yaks-go-so-does-culture">Himalayan culture</a> with economic depictions of deities, mandala and sacred narratives. The exhibition at <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/multimedia/a-portal-into-patan-s-past-and-present">Patan Museum</a> also provides an opportunity to meet painters and custodians of art and culture. Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/golden-deities">Golden deities</a>, Sewa Bhattarai ‘The exhibition is only the first step in a long journey to ensure that Nepali art is no just seen but fully understood, <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/article/nation/Narratives-of-Faith-and-Memory-Remembering-the-Lost-Sculptures-of-Kathmandu-exhibition,987">protected and remembered</a>,’ the Council says. Artist Kailash K Shrestha of Artudio has spent decades promoting thankha and paubha traditions because of their beauty and devotional meaning. But he also says artists are underpaid, exploited and ignored. He adds, “AI and blockchain are not just buzzwords, they are powerful tools that can protect Nepal’s artists from fraud, verify authenticity and build a permanent record of provenance.” Traditional Art Exhibition Till 17 May Patan Museum

Digital protection for Nepal’s art

<a href="https://www.instagram.com/prabalgurung/" target="_blank">Prabal Gurung</a> left Nepal for New York in 1999 to escape years of bullying, sexism and homophobia, and to pursue his dream of becoming a fashion designer. He <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KqN0VaoAI5w" target="_blank">realised his dream</a>, but did not escape discrimination and racism in the new world. Propelled by passion for fashion, Gurung overcame everything America threw at him. He has attained <a href="https://www.vanityfair.com/style/story/prabal-gurung-recalls-his-first-met-gala-when-zoe-saldana-was-at-his-side?srsltid=AfmBOooy-H0oGgxMit864FnW_Pmw8mUnV8rYrh-co-f6OyYK6m2ip5hP" target="_blank">fame and recognition</a> for his haute couture dress designs while remaining true to his Nepali roots, and is even more resolute in <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dSmNauyzACk" target="_blank">fighting prejudice</a> in all its forms. Prabal Gurung’s newly-released memoir <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Audible-Walk-Like-Girl-Memoir/dp/B0DG11HCDQ?fbclid=IwY2xjawKZfpxleHRuA2FlbQIxMQABHuZcIJO2OXyXcRm1oq1iG6wzeoF7VJFrQ7GXOFI0YxuZZ4id_CNvSZSZZIna_aem_pG_mOKG73RTnYvN8JaC4fA">Walk Like a Girl</a> is a saga of harrowing abuse in boarding schools in Nepal and India, only finding himself facing a different kind of bullying in the US. He prevails over it all to be where he is today: an award-winning American fashion designer with his own label. Walk Like a Girl was launched last week in New York at a time when everything Gurung fought for — tolerance, inclusion and diversity — are in retreat in his adopted country because of a president who has espoused a culture of bullying. The book is a searing, raw exposé of how cruel and abusive people can be even at a young age in school. On the other hand, it also shows that there are generous, compassionate and open-minded souls out there. In his book, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K4le_uWX7YE">Prabal Gurung</a> calls out those who tormented and tried to hold him back (some of their names have been altered). The moral of his story is: resist, never stop believing in yourself, do not let others define you, never lose sight of your dream, and help those who have been kept out. “Walk like a girl” was a slur used by bullies back in school in Nepal and India for Gurung’s effeminate ways. He fought back then, and he is still resisting by turning those words into something to be proud of.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250519170544_4ffc9c3f565dd2cfa754d10b224816897b82bb31ebaee91b6d79d469fc96f14e.jpg" data-media-id="editor_6" data-image-id="20250519170544_4ffc9c3f565dd2cfa754d10b224816897b82bb31ebaee91b6d79d469fc96f14e" data-rendition-name="original" width="1000" height="1253" loading="lazy" alt="Prabal Gurung NT"> <figcaption>Prabal Gurung at home in Kathmandu in the 1990s.</figcaption> </figure>  “Living through it all was one thing, but writing about it is one of the hardest things I have done in my life,” admitted Gurung during the launch. “I broke down constantly during the six-year writing process.” He continues: “I did not want this to be a victim’s book. I did not want to burden my readers with my emotions. I wanted my struggle to be an inspiration for others facing what I faced. I am grateful to those who bullied me in school, they made me a stronger person ready to face the world.” Indeed, this book is a departure from his earlier one titled simply, Prabal Gurung (Abrams, 2019), which was a lush pictorial autobiography of his career in fashion. Walk Like a Girl is not a typical fashion book, it is an intimate tale of <a href="https://archive.nepalitimes.com/news.php?id=16997">Gurung’s travails and triumphs</a>, and how he willed himself to succeed. Prabal pays a lavish tribute to his mother Durga Rana. We find out she is a descendant of the first wife of the eldest son of Jang Bahadur Rana who was banished to Palpa in the late 19th century. Prabal’s father served in the Singapore Police and that is where he was born before the family returned to Nepal when he was four. Gurung relates with brutal honesty about the violence his mother endured from his father. Durga raises three children as a single mother in Nepal, and Prabal credits her for his fierce determination to resist patriarchy and injustice, which in time manifests itself in his hyper-feminine and subversive dress designs. Writing the book has been a cathartic experience for Gurung, who says he is now relieved of the burdens of his past. It no longer haunts him, and he does not have to prove anything to anyone anymore. Walk Like a Girl has life lessons not just for the <a href="https://www.instagram.com/p/DJmOcSgxdWz/" target="_blank">fashion industry</a>, but for every other profession. How can my job serve a greater cause? Gurung tells us his work is <a href="https://asiasociety.org/blog/asia/why-designer-prabal-gurung-doesnt-want-just-stick-fashion" target="_blank">bigger than just making clothes</a>, it is about making the world a better place because it could do with a lot of improvement.  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250519170544_d75296ad8bfdc00d88935f40d23543c6fea3d4d6a10e61a99d6cfc6127f2ee5b.png" data-media-id="editor_10" data-image-id="20250519170544_d75296ad8bfdc00d88935f40d23543c6fea3d4d6a10e61a99d6cfc6127f2ee5b" data-rendition-name="original" width="1516" height="1000" loading="lazy" alt="Prabal Gurung"> </figure>  This story of chasing the American dream may sound familiar to many immigrants: knocking on doors for jobs, rejections, trying to survive from day to day on expensive rent, and dealing with subtle racism in white America. Gurung finds racism is rife, and he is often mockingly called ‘gaysian’. He writes: ‘There was a strong hypocrisy — this idea of independence felt like a marketting ruse … and for all the talk of feminism in America, these high society women were trapped by the patriarchy just like in Nepal and India.’ After a trek to the Khumbu region in 2013, Gurung is inspired to use the colours, palette and textures of Nepal for his collection exhibited on Manhattan’s 8th Avenue. A major buyer tells him bluntly: “Stick to making pretty dresses … if I need to see a collection like this, I could buy a copy of National Geographic.” The New York Times was equally dismissive: ‘The designer tries to draw connections between blistered techo-fabric used to construct it and the topography of his homeland, Nepal. But, at the moment, he has lost his map.’ One potential investor tells Gurung he cannot design for Americana because “you do not look American”. Gurung wants to use expletives, but restrains himself. After a fundraiser in New York for the Nepal earthquake in 2015, some belittled his effort, saying: “Here comes the saviour."&nbsp; Read also: <a href="https://nepalitimes.com/review/prabal-gurung-by-prabal-gurung">Prabal Gurung by Prabal Gurung</a>, Kunda Dixit The Gurkha DNA must be dominant in Prabal Gurung’s genes because he does not take such mistreatment lying down. When asked by a fashion publicist why he was designing clothes for fat people, he snaps back: “Because of people like you.” He joins the Black Lives Matter and #MeToo movements, launches the Shikshya Foundation charity in Nepal, and has powerful allies among celebrities who wear clothes he designed: Michelle Obama, Oprah Winfrey, Sara Jessica Parker, Kamala Harris, Deepika Padukone … it is a long list.&nbsp;  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250519150556_48a5f4211991a23fa85b64bbd5377575ca7081d97309d7542035591dda5180fe.png" data-media-id="editor_12" data-image-id="20250519150556_48a5f4211991a23fa85b64bbd5377575ca7081d97309d7542035591dda5180fe" data-rendition-name="original" width="1114" height="1534" loading="lazy" alt="Being Prabal Gurung by design"> <figcaption>Nigerian novelist Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie wearing Atelier Prabal Gurung’s design for Met Gala 2025 in which the theme was ‘Superfine: Tailoring Black Style’. </figcaption> </figure>  “I don’t dress women to look beautiful, they already are,” Gurung says. “I try to bring out their innate strength and grace.” <a href="https://www.instagram.com/stories/highlights/17908766880140171/" target="_blank">Admirers</a> tell Gurung he makes it all look so easy, but he used to put up a strong facade to not show his own vulnerabilities in public. “I was closed because of my childhood experiences,” he says. “I was always on guard to defend myself because I never knew where the next punch would come from.” But in <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PPVepzPA210" target="_blank">Walk Like a Girl,</a> Gurung comes to terms with his vulnerability, and bares his soul. It has not been easy, it took sustained will power and support from his mother, sister Kumudini and a circle of close friends. “I made unbelonging my power,” he says. “Nepal is where I still have my heart and soul. Nepal grounds you. It is where people go to find themselves. But I escaped.” Recently appointed vice-chair of the <a href="https://cfda.com/about-cfda" target="_blank">Council of American Fashion Designers</a>, Gurung says: “I can’t believe I am here, it feels like it is happening to someone else. Writing this book, the healing has finally begun.” <h2>‘Everything is better in color’</h2> The Met Gala was two weeks later, and my table was an example of everything I’d been fighting for all these years as my guests represented everything I believed in: dynamic, powerful, influential women who were unapologetically original and unabashedly graceful. I was grateful to Anna for inviting me to host and dress a table that reflected my ethos—and for her guidance in doing so. I was also aware of the privilege as one of the first-­ever Asian fashion designers—not just from Nepal, but from the entire continent— to get the opportunity to do so. That fact was not lost on me. I reached out beyond the expected Hollywood celebrities and well-­known socialites to curate a table of exceptional women who inspired me. I invited Deepika Padukone and Alia Bhatt for their first-­ever Met Galas, as well as Michelle Yeoh, Mindy Kaling, Camila Cabello, Ashley Park, Denée Benton, KiKi Layne, Quannah Chasinghorse, and Grace Elizabeth. Together we checked many boxes: Asian, Black, Latinx, and Indigenous, each woman undeniably chic and powerful, a dazzling array of skin tones and experiences that proved my decades‑in‑the-­making hypothesis: everything is better in color. Excerpt from Walk Like a Girl Viking © 2025 by Prabal Gurung  <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250519170520_6b91d560e9f072c37d16876901058c073a51ffa05e7ad1b9461d19e1c9c28215.jpg" data-media-id="editor_16" data-image-id="20250519170520_6b91d560e9f072c37d16876901058c073a51ffa05e7ad1b9461d19e1c9c28215" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Prabal Gurung book details NT"> </figure>   <figure> <img src="https://publisher-publish.s3.eu-central-1.amazonaws.com/pb-nepalitimes/swp/asv65r/media/20250519170520_345240c21be400e2ce2ec629b52bd82bb53890e5bd86fe95b48340d84b5f1748.jpg" data-media-id="editor_17" data-image-id="20250519170520_345240c21be400e2ce2ec629b52bd82bb53890e5bd86fe95b48340d84b5f1748" data-rendition-name="original" width="1136" height="702" loading="lazy" alt="Prabal Gurung book details NT"> </figure>  &nbsp;

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